


To Mend

by Yubari (aquila_black)



Category: Loveless
Genre: Breathplay, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:00:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquila_black/pseuds/Yubari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Loveless Anon Kmeme prompt: "Seimei/Soubi consensual bloodplay. And smut. Lots of smut..."<br/><b>**Spoilers for the latest chapters**</b></p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is how I imagined things might go if Seimei took the trouble to straighten Soubi out after he recalled him, instead of just being perpetually annoyed at how much he's changed, how much he hasn't, and more generally at Soubi being himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Mend

Soubi's blue eyes met his. "When I'm with you," he said, "I am what I always was."

"Yes. Even after obeying Ritsuka for me, you could hardly be otherwise." Seimei smiled bitterly. "In word and act, you're completely mine. But I need that to be true whether you're with me or not." His gloved hand grabbed Soubi by the forearm. "These are my arms," Seimei intoned, "and this," he said, splaying his other hand over Soubi's chest "was my heart. While I was away, you started giving it to Ritsuka."

"No! Seimei, I-" _missed you, want you, am nothing without you_ he meant to say, but more of an outburst than that, his training wouldn't allow. Not when the first word out of his mouth elicited such a dangerous, disapproving look. Through his hand, Seimei could feel Soubi's heartbeat pounding out silent panic. Such a liar he was, to respond like this after having suggested that Seimei abandon him. Such a foolish toy. 

"You're nothing." Seimei said. "You don't contradict _me._ "

Soubi's head bowed in contrition. "Please make me ..." his voice quivered, but he resolutely ignored it. "Make me your instrument once again."

"I fully intend to. Kneel." And as Soubi did so, Seimei hooked his fingers around the bandages covering his fighter's neck. "I did not give this to you for you to hide it." In a single motion, he ripped them off Soubi's name. "Or are you ashamed to have belonged to me? Not a word," he said, voice heavy with command. "You've transgressed. You will pay. You are unacceptable. You will change. But once that's done, you will have absolution."

Soubi could have kissed his feet. _Anything,_ he thought, with a mixture of desperation and relief, _only don't leave me. I'd beg you if it weren't an annoyance. Don't leave me._ The bond in his chest, broken though it was, started to hum with magic.

Seimei could see the effect his words were having, the way Soubi's new-found freedom was losing its luster in the presence of his oldest, dearest wish. To belong completely. To have purpose. _Thy will,_ his blank had always prayed, and so it was now. Warmth vibrated through Seimei's body, an uncomfortable combination of anger, the need to dominate, and tiny prickles of lust. _Ugly creature,_ he thought defensively. _Tainted, lowly thing_. It was the prospect of blood and pain and absolute submission that was attracting him, Seimei told himself, not the sad excuse for a human being that knelt before him. He had self-discipline. He had control. This was punishment, nothing more. The re-tying of a leash. Seimei's expression was completely cold as he said "undress." He flicked open his pocket knife, and observed the way Soubi's eyes were drawn to it, noting that his fighter still obeyed without question.

Soubi pulled his lower lip unconsciously into his mouth as he looked, an indescribable yearning and desire to prove himself vying with the way his body was trying to brace itself. He removed everything, leaving his clothes in a loose pile, and sat back on his heels. The cold floor supported him from toes to knees. It was just as well. He'd gone for over a year without ... but his thoughts faded into nothing as Seimei approached him. Anticipation coiled in Soubi's stomach. 

Seimei walked behind him and crouched down, letting his knife cut the air above Soubi's skin with swift, practiced movements while he decided where to slice. He was so close that Soubi could feel warmth against his hair when he breathed, and against his ear when Seimei said, "breathe in and hold."

Soubi kept his spine as straight as he could and took a deep breath, expanding his ribcage and making the skin over it tighten. Seimei's knife was so sharp that he didn't feel it open his skin. The burning pain coincided with the bleeding, several steps behind what Seimei actually did. Soubi closed his eyes and tried to make out the pattern, the sense to be had in the angles and curves. He ignored the empty feeling that was building in his stomach, rising through his lungs, poisoning his airways ... his hands clenched into empty fists with increasing urgency, as his body started fighting him in earnest for air. Soubi knew he would pass out before disobeying such an order. He lost all sense of time. Seconds drag like hours when you don't have permission to breathe, but he was struggling to be present and feel this. Each moment. Each cut. He showed his throat as Seimei dragged two fingers over it lengthwise, from chin to clavicle.

"Breathe, Soubi," Seimei ordered. 

Soubi's cuts bled more freely as his back moved, as he exhaled all at once and then took in air in a great, long gasp. 

He narrowly avoided being between breaths when Seimei said "hold, Soubi." Which started the process again.

Soubi managed to last almost as long as before, but Seimei had anticipated that. He magnanimously allowed him to breathe - once. All told, they repeated the process seven times, until just holding his breath was making Soubi's whole body quiver, and Seimei was idly drawing his finger through the open cuts on Soubi's back, because there was no more room for knife work and Soubi was too out of it to tell the difference. If it hadn't been for Seimei's deep distaste for dirtiness, Soubi would have collapsed in his arms when he didn't re-issue the order. 

Soubi has sweat dripping down his face. He was panting and shaking like an animal, and trying in vain not to do either. He clamped his teeth together to make himself breathe through his nose, but it hurt. Moving and not moving and breathing and not breathing all seemed to have coalesced into an undifferentiated heaviness of pain. That didn't matter, though. The important part was that he'd obeyed and was obeying now. He focused his slightly-dulled senses on Seimei.

Seimei mopped up some of Soubi's blood with his gloved fingers, and smeared it over the raised scars on his neck. They absorbed it immediately upon contact and burned black. Soubi held back a raw scream as the agony in his bond escalated. Seimei repeated the motion, this time running his hand around Soubi's neck, tracing the long scar that encircled it like a collar. Blood stained Soubi's hair as he cried out, and Seimei's eyes narrowed. 

"You made your name bleed while I was gone. And this is what you suffer over? You should be helping me." He said, punctuating his words with another ungentle brush of blood-soaked leather against Soubi's neck.

Soubi bit down on another undignified yelp. It took all his willpower to put shaking hands to the wounds on his back, and smear the blood against his wronged, true name. It hurt. It burned. And the rest of him felt so cold, like the floor had pulled all his body heat out of him, and all he had left was the fire around his neck, in his name, coming out his chest in a broken bond. Even his back didn't hurt, in comparison. He could feel himself getting gooseflesh all over his body, but his hands didn't falter. From his back to his neck ... and when Seimei stilled them, holding them over Soubi's neck in an unforgiving grip, Soubi could have stayed like that forever. It didn't make any sense that he could feel Seimei's heartbeat - could feel warmth and pulse through the quarter inch of brown leather that he always separated himself from his fighter with, but Soubi had magic roaring through his blood, burning everything out of him that shouldn't have been there to begin with, and he didn't question it. Nor did he wonder at the way Seimei's eyes were completely dilated. He was never more appealing to his sacrifice, he thought, than when he was covered in blood. 

"Enough," Seimei said, as he removed his hands. 

Soubi winced at the lack of contact, but submissively refrained from reaching out to him. "I'm freezing," he stated, trying to simply provide information and not quite managing to keep the complaint out of his voice.

" _Are_ you?" Seimei snapped, making no effort to keep the menace out of his voice. 

Soubi, in his mostly-unhinged state, managed to interpret that as _I wasn't planning to punish you further, but if you push ..._ He stared at Seimei through half-closed eyes. "I really am. Please ..."

Seimei's eyes narrowed in disgust, and for a second, Soubi thought he'd misread him. Then he said, "face down."

Soubi unfolded his aching legs out from under him and rolled over on his stomach on the cold floor. No sooner had he done that, than he could feel his long coat being thrown over him. Without having to think about it, he spread his legs. 

Seimei lay down on top of him for the first time in either of their lives, making a point to land on Soubi's mutilated back hard enough to make his whole body clench with renewed pain. "You're filthy," he he informed Soubi, grinding his erection against the other man's ass through two layers of cloth. "You don't know what decency is, you don't know that this is not what a fighter is for, and you wouldn't know a professional partnership if it bit you. I've never touched you sexually and all you can dream of is being used more. You invite it."

"Yes," Soubi agreed, with what little energy wasn't going into rubbing against his sacrifice. And he had a feeling that saying another word would make Seimei recoil, so he didn't. He pushed and squirmed and tried to imprint every second of this into his memory. Seimei grabbed onto him hard enough to leave bruises, shuddered against his body, and decided in an unexpected moment of kindness not to knee him in the balls. He left Soubi with a warning glare and explicit orders not to leave the house. Soubi was half-tempted to stay _right there_ , and find out what Nisei would have to say about it when he came home, but he didn't. A blissful, broken smile crossed his face, as he hoped that next time - he cut himself off to hope there would be a next time. Then he hoped that Seimei might eventually forgo the jacket. Then he berated himself soundly for dwelling on what was none of his business, and reached for his clothes with a groan.


End file.
